


Polysyndeton

by TheoMiller



Category: Knight & Rogue - Hilari Bell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Elementary School, Fisk is a stay-at-home-uncle, Gen, M/M, Michael is a teacher, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-02 02:56:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2797052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheoMiller/pseuds/TheoMiller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Field trips and glitter glue and math tutors and lesson plans and families and white collar crime and snooping and romance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Polysyndeton, n.: a rhetorical device where a list continuously uses conjunctions rather than commas in order to emphasize each part of the list.

"You're Becca's uncle, yes?" Said Mr Sevenson.

Fisk drummed his fingers on the desk. "I am. Look, Anna can't come, so either you deal with me or you wait for the scarier aunt. And trust me, you do not want to wait for the aunt."

"Judith attended open house with Rebecca," Sevenson said, lips twitching. "Are you the same uncle who provides childcare in the afternoons?"

"I'm the unpaid babysitter, yeah."

"Becca speaks very highly of you. She's a remarkable girl, Mr. Fisk, her reading level is already at a fifth grade average."

"Look, if you tell me to stop letting her read so she doesn't get ahead of the class..."

"Naturally not," Sevenson said quickly, and Fisk sighed in relief. "No, her academics are more than satisfactory, but she's having trouble with the other students. She can't connect to them. Rosamund--that is, Mrs. Foster--tells me neither Becca nor Thomas have ever gone on field trips?"

Fisk flushed. "I see the gossip among kindergarten and first grade teachers is alive and well."

"I understand the monetary concerns, Mr. Fisk, and I might have a solution."

Sevenson was looking earnest, enough to make Fisk uncomfortable with the knowledge that he was getting sympathy from bloody grade school teachers now, but the next field trip was to a petting zoo, and Becca would be devastated if she couldn't go. "What sort of solution?"

"I never get enough parental supervision on these trips. No one wants to spend six hours at a zoo with twenty-four six year olds. So I'll pay for Becca and Thomas to go on all of their field trips, as long as you come along as a chaperone."

That actually wasn't a bad deal. So Fisk shook on it and turned the conversation to the curriculum.

-

"Who goes to the zoo this EARLY," complained Fisk, as Becca bounced around in her favorite unicorn shirt (not to be confused with her five other unicorn shirts. More than half her shirts had unicorns.)

Thomas giggled.

"I can't wait!" Said Becca. "C'mon, uncle Fisk, let's go, Mr Sevenson is bringing his daughter, I wanna meet her!"

"Tell me again how many foster children he has?"

"Six! There's Jig, and Jer, and Bran, and Talts, and Timasmus, and Alessa."

Fisk wasn't much younger than Mr Sevenson, who had to be at least 24 to be teaching, and he found two five and six year olds to be a handful. And he had three sisters helping. Sevenson was very clearly mad to have six foster children between eight and fourteen without a wife.

"And what's it called when we list things with a lot of and's for emphasis?"

"Poly-sidney-ton," said Becca, prompt as ever. "Alessa is the only girl."

"Why isn't Alessa in school?" Fisk asked.

Lissy glanced up from her oatmeal. "Alessa Hardwick? She's suspended. She punched Yorick in the stomach for harassing Jeremiah."

Fisk blinked. "How do you know what happens at the middle school?" He asked.

"Alessa is a sophomore, Fisk. She skipped two years of school at some point. Apparently she's going to take summer classes and graduate after her junior year, right before she turns fifteen. She's a genius."

"You've been snooping," Fisk accused without real heat.

"Yep," said Lissy. "Kathy says Michael only fosters at risk children. Timasmus has one eye, he lost it in a fight. And he's eleven. Eleven! And Bran and Talts saw their mum and dad murdered, and Jig is new, but Kathy reckons he's gonna open up soon."

"And how does Kathy know all of this?"

"Michael told her."

"Why would he tell a high schooler about his kids?"

"Because she's his kid sister. I did my research, Nonny. You're the one who taught me how to snoop."

"Can you teach me to snoop?" Becca asked.

"I'll teach you to snoop when you can pronounce polysyndeton," Fisk said.

-

"Mr. Fisk," said Michael, and Fisk found it hard to call him Mr Sevenson when he was wearing jeans and a Fallon Elementary polo instead of a shirt and tie. "How was traffic?"

"Thomas got... sidetracked," Fisk said, wincing. He was late.

Michael nodded. "Mrs. Foster says he fixates occasionally. I completely understand. Hello, Becca."

"My Aunt Lissy says she knows your sister," said Becca, staring off at the tiny slip of a girl who had to be Alessa.

"Then our family has excellent taste in acquaintances," Michael told her. "Do you know what acquaintances are?"

"Nope. Uncle Fisk, can I go make Alessa’s acquaintance now?"

She didn't wait for an answer, just darted off, and Michael looked at Fisk. "She pretends not to know things when she's bored of answering questions," Fisk explained.

"Her home education appears to be somewhat esoteric. Her mother is a nurse?"

"Yes," said Fisk. "Judith is a paralegal working on her law degree, and our brother in law was a judge. I'm a history person myself."

"That would explain why she can identify rhetorical devices and argue the school nurse into tears, but remains unable to subtract well enough to move on to second grade."

Fisk snickered. "Your school nurse is weak."

"He's an ex-marine," said Michael, and then they were both laughing.


	2. Chapter 2

Alessa only quietly nodded to Fisk when they were introduced, holding court with the children instead. She spoke mainly in one word answers and nods and shakes of her head, until someone challenged her on wanting to see the goats the most, and then she calmly informed the child of several facts about goats that Fisk admittedly hadn’t known.

He tried to picture her punching someone in the stomach, and found he couldn’t quite see it. Quietly sabotaging someone, certainly. But not punching someone.

Michael stepped up behind Fisk. “Trying to do the math?”

“She’s adopted,” said Fisk, “I know that. I’m just… Six children? And you’re not married?”

“I’m working on a doctorate in early childhood education,” said Michael. “They give me the hard cases. I’ve found that the ones they deem the most difficult to deal with are the ones I get along with best.”

“What are you going to do your dissertation on?” Fisk asked, automatically.

“Codependency in orphaned children. Did you attend college at all? You seem knowledgeable.”

Fisk, who’d done a year of correspondence courses in prison out of sheer boredom, nodded. “My father spent years trying to get into a doctoral program, and I was going to do a third semester when—” He broke off. _When he’d gotten out of prison and run home to take care of his sisters, because his brother-in-law had gotten himself framed and sent to prison_. “—well, anyway, I’m not really one for higher education. Hang on. Doctorate? You have to do five years for a Master’s, at least, and more if—how old are you?”

“That’s a rude question,” said Michael, with hips lips twitching. Then, “Who’s ready to go to the zoo?”

The chorus of “I am, Mister Seven,” was almost deafening and in pretty decent unison.

“Miss Alessa, my daughter, and Mr. Fisk, Becca’s uncle, are our special guests, so they’re going to be the engine and the caboose today, all right?”

No objections were raised, and Mr. Sevenson opened the door so Alessa could lead her trail of ducklings out into the hall, towards where the door to the bus loop was. Fisk brought up the rear.

“Alessa, first seat on the driver’s side. The rest of you, sit with your Buddy, okay?”

The herd of children split off into pairs, which apparently had been predetermined, and Sevenson counted them off as they went into the bus, checking against his clipboard.

“You’re my buddy, Uncle Fisk,” said Becca. “We sit across from Mr. Sevenson, since you’re chaperone.”

Fisk let her lead him onto the bus. “What happened to ‘Mister Seven’?”

“I only call him that when we’re being silly,” she said. “His real name is Mr. Sevenson. It’ll be Dr. Sevenson soon, right? That’s what diss—dister—disaster-tations are for.”

“Dissertation,” Fisk told her, and Michael smiled at him as he came to sit down. The bus driver closed the doors, and Fisk leaned across the aisle. “You never answered me, by the way.”

“I’m twenty-six.”

Fisk grinned. “Oh, you’re ancient. That’s a whole year older than me.”

“A whole year? Well, young man, let me tell you about how things happened back in my day,” said Michael.

Alessa snorted quietly, and Fisk turned back to Becca, who was tugging on his sleeve, to argue with her about whether or not buses should come in standardized colors.

\---

“All right, buddy system, if you don’t stick with your buddy, I’ll have to make you hold hands,” said Michael, and there was a resounding chorus of “ewwww” regarding the cooties one gets from holding hands with peers.

One pair of girls declared they’d hold hand _anyways_ , so _there_.

“Mr Fisk," said Michael. "I'm going to get us checked in so we can get through the gate pretty quickly. Can you keep an eye on them?"

"Do you guys want to hear a story?" Fisk asked the children, and they all gathered around him. "All right, so, this is an old fairy tale, called a myth. There was a man called Thor, and he travelled to the land of giants with his companions Loki and Thjalfi, in order to ask for help killing the wicked giant Skyrimr. The giants challenged them all to a contest, and asked them to name their skill. If they won, the giants would help them.

"Thor boasted of his ability to drink, and Loki of his ability to eat, and Thjalfi said he was the fastest boy in all the nine realms. So the giant first points to one of the giants and says, 'he is the greatest drinker among us; outdrink him.'

"So Thor and the giant both sit before huge cups full to the brim. And Thor drinks and drinks but he cannot reach the bottom of the cup, and the giant wins."

"That's not fair, giants have big stomachs!" One girl said.

"Loki is a giant!" said Becca.

"That's right," Fisk said, "so Loki went next. And Loki ate and he ate, and he cleared many plates, but he could not eat everything on the table like the giant could, and so he lost."

There was a loud chorus of booing at this, as well as a few children insisting they could eat all that food, easy.

"And then Thjalfi went up. And he was so fast he could outrun anyone else, even wolves, but he couldn't outrun the giant. And so, all of them having lost, they prepared to leave.

"But then the giant's leader stopped them, and he admitted their secret - the giants had cheated."

Several people gasped.

"Thor's drink had no bottom because the cup pulled from the ocean, which is so deep that not even Thor could drink it all. Loki could not reach the end of the table because he was eating the earth, and not even Loki could devour the earth alone. And Thjalfi could not outrun the giant because the giant was using magic to run as fast as thought itself, and no man can outrun thoughts."

"Did Thor kill the giants?" Someone asked.

"He wanted to," Fisk told him. "But the giant was really Skyrimr in disguise, and all the other giants just illusions. And he feared what the three were  capable of if they could drink part of the sea, eat part of the land, and nearly outrun thought. So he promised to leave people alone, and then he vanished forever."

“Loki should’ve eaten the giants!” one of the hand-holding girls announced, just as Michael walked up to them. Fisk grinned at the expression on the teacher’s face.

“Just what are you teaching my students?” asked Michael, but he was grinning back at Fisk.

He shrugged. “Just Norse mythology.”

“I know just enough Norse mythology for that to worry me,” said Michael. “No horse stories, please.”

Fisk laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear, pinky swear, the reasons for Norse mythology tangents will become clear later.


	3. Chapter 3

“Mr Sevenson, Mr Sevenson,” said Becca, “Look, look!”

She grabbed Michael’s hand and tugged. Fisk nodded in response to Michael’s questioning look, and redirected his attention to the group of children he’d somehow signed up to take care of.

“Watch this,” someone said quietly. Fisk was turning, because small children saying “watch this” had never worked out well when he was growing up, and was just in time to see a rubber band go flying. It narrowly missed a cow.

“Hey,” said Fisk. “You, what’s your name?”

“Jimmy,” the boy said.

Another one of the boys, presumably Jimmy’s preassigned buddy, said, “Jimmy Seaton. And he didn’t hurt nobody.”

“You know that story I told you earlier? Well, Thjalfi got in trouble one time. See, he was terribly hungry, and this guy had these two magic oxen – sort of like cows, but they’re used to pull carts and wagons. So he killed the oxen, and he cooked them up for Thjalfi, because he knew they’d come back to life. But he warned Thjalfi not to damage the bones, because it would hurt the oxen. Except Thjalfi liked to gnaw on bones, and he did, and the next day, when they came back to life,” Fisk paused for dramatic effect, “one of the magic ox was limping.”

“Uh-oh,” Jimmy’s buddy said.

“Their owner was terribly angry that his kindness had been repaid by Thjalfi hurting one of his animals. Only Thor’s kindness kept Thjalfi safe. And that’s how Thjalfi came to travel with Thor. Now, I can’t speak for the zookeepers here, but if I were nice enough to let strangers into my house and they flung rubber bands at my animals, I wouldn’t be very happy.”

"Uncle Fisk, look!" Becca yelled, and Fisk turned away from the gaggle of children to see that his niece had climbed inside the pig enclosure and was holding one of the piglets.

"Rebecca Marie Maxwell, if you don't put that piglet down right now--" Fisk didn't get a chance to threaten her, because one of the boys had found another rubber band, and he barely registered the snapping sound of it being launched before a very large pig squealed and rushed at Becca.

The piglet scrambled away as Becca screeched and jumped aside, and then Mr Sevenson grabbed her by the waist and carried her to the fence. Fisk took her from the man's arms so Sevenson could climb over before the pig decided to charge again.

"Albert!" One of the zookeepers said, and crossed the enclosure to the pig.

Fisk set Becca down and crouched to meet her eyes. "You don't climb into animal pens, Becca. Pigs don't seem dangerous to you, but any animal is dangerous when it's scared. You know better, I know you do."

"But I'm not the one who scared it," she argued.

"Yeah, and I'm sure he's going to get in trouble too. No Sherlock Holmes this week, Becca, and you're going to practice your math if you want to have Holmes next week."

"You're not my dad," she said, "and you did worse things, I heard mommy say so."

Fisk glanced at Mr Sevenson, who was talking to the kid who'd launched the rubber band, looking uncharacteristically stern, while Alessa distracted the children with magic tricks.

"Yeah, Becca, I did. And I went to prison for those things, because actions have consequences. And the consequences of breaking the zoo rules are no Holmes."

"But Uncle Fisk--"

"And whatever Mr Sevenson thinks should happen. You scared him, Becca. And you could've gotten really hurt if he hadn't been so quick. That pig weighs more than me, do you want me running you over?"

"Are you sure it weighs more than you?" She asked, eyeing Fisk, who immediately scooped her up and held her over the fence to the zookeeper.

"How do the pigs feel about eating meat?" he called. "I'll trade you for a really cute piglet!"

"Uncle Fisk!" Becca said plaintively, "Mommy says no cannibal jokes in public!"

"Oh, all right," he said, and put her back on the sidewalk, where she dusted herself off with a sniff. "Now, go apologize to Mr Sevenson. And thank him for rescuing you."

"Mr Sevenson," said Becca, in a soft voice.

The teacher turned, glancing up at Fisk, and then met Becca's eyes. "Yes, Rebecca?"

"I'm sorry I broke the rules," she said.

"I know. That's why I'm not going to give you a referral. But you are going to get your bug moved to red, okay?"

"Yeah," she mumbled. "Mr Sevenson?"

"Yes, Rebecca?"

"Thank you for rescuing me."

"Of course. And it gave me a chance to look heroic, didn't it?"

"Yeah! Like Sir Lancelot or Sir Gawaine!"

"I think he's more of a Percivale," Fisk said, resting his hand on Becca's shoulder. "Go join your classmates, Becca, I think Miss Alessa is telling them about goats."

"I'm sorry," Mr Sevenson said, when she ran off.

Fisk blinked. "What on earth for?"

"I looked away and she was gone. I should've paid more attention."

"You're stealing my lines," Fisk said. "I'm the neglectful uncle, you're supposed to be the teacher who calls CPS. Again."

"Well, actually, I was about to commend you on how you handled that,” said Michael. “Both Jimmy Seaton and Becca. Do you have children of your own?”

Fisk barked out a laugh. “No, I—I’m not exactly a family guy.”

“Well,” Michael said, “You’re an excellent uncle, regardless. Although, if you tell my students the story about Loki and the horse, I may need to rethink my chaperone arrangements.”

-

"Hey," Alessa said quietly. She didn't actually meet Fisk's eyes, just studied a point above his ear. "I heard you say Becca needs to work on her math. I... could tutor her, if you'd like."

"I don't know how much we'd be able to pay you," said Fisk, awkwardly.

Alessa shook her head, lips pressed together.

"I'd have to pay you, come on," Fisk said. "Um. Eight dollars a night?"

"It'll end up back in your wallet," Michael called over.

Fisk blinked. Then, "You can pickpocket, huh?"

A nod.

"He's got really sharp ears."

Another nod.

"My big sister does, too," said Fisk. "We'll pay you in baked goods, how's that sound?"

Alessa smiled.


	4. milkshakes & movies

“Hi!” Lissy said, still wiping soapy water off her hands with her apron. “I’m Lissy, Becca’s aunt. She’s set up at the kitchen table. Do you like banana bread? It has chocolate chips.”

Alessa nodded.

Kathy, who was standing behind Alessa, smiled at Lissy politely as she stepped aside to let Alessa in. “Come on in, you can have a slice of my world-famous banana bread.”

“That good?” asked Kathy. She glanced around the house and then pretended she wasn’t looking at it. “I like your apron,” she said a little too quickly.

Lissy glanced down at her apron – it was an olive green affair with a rather intricate cross-stitched fish on the pocket – and then raised her eyebrows. “Sure you do. Who doesn’t like a giant fish for decoration?”

“All right, it’s pretty awful,” agreed Kathy, the smile getting toothier and more honest. “Are you going to the game next week? It’ll be a home game, and it’ll finally settle the blood feud between us and Crown City.”

“Nothing will settle the blood feud between us and Crown City,” said Lissy.

“Sorry, sorry,” Fisk said, as he came rushing down the stairs, his hair looking like he’d been running his fingers through it. “I didn’t hear the doorbell over the washer.”

“You must be Becca’s uncle,” Kathy said. “I’m Kathy, Alessa’s aunt. I go to school with Elissa,” she added.

Fisk glanced at Lissy. Then, “I think she’s mentioned you. It’s nice to meet you. You can call me Fisk. Lissy, did you—”

“The casserole is ready,” she said. “But don’t worry, I’ll be here to put it in the oven. Tristram had to cancel; his boss broke the printer and won’t let him leave until he figures out what’s wrong with it.”

“I’m actually about to go to the movies with a couple of my friends, if you want to come along,” said Kathy.

Lissy started to smile, and then glanced at Fisk pleadingly. “Can I—?”

“I’ll pay for your ticket, since I’m the one doing the inviting,” Kathy said.

“Who’s going? Do I know them or their parents? And what movie theatre?”

Kathy grinned as Lissy rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. “It’s just my friend Meg and her boyfriend Rupert, Mr. Fisk. Uh, Meg Pellex and Rupert Kennedy. And we’re just going to the one off Charlemagne Street, we like to support local businesses.”

“All right,” said Fisk. “Text me if you go anywhere else.”

“Yes, _dad_ ,” Lissy replied, and immediately felt bad when Fisk’s expression went a bit tight around the edges. “Oh, the casserole—take off the cling film before you put it in the oven. 375 degrees, 25 minutes.”

“Do you cook a lot?” asked Kathy. Lissy grabbed her coat, shrugged out of the apron, and fished in the bowl of keys for her set.

“When Anna’s not home, I do all the cooking. Self-preservation, really – Nonny and Judith can’t cook.”

Fisk gave her a dirty look. “I’ll remember that the next time you want me to make you French toast when I have a hang—nail,” he said, glancing at the table where Alessa and Becca were already bent over a math workbook.

“Nice save,” Kathy said.

Lissy waved at Fisk as she followed the other girl out of the house. “Lock the door for me?”

“Is my aunt being friends with my teacher’s sister a conflict of interest?” asked Becca, the question almost muffled as Fisk slid the deadbolt shut.

Elissa paused long enough to listen to the answer.

“He’s a first grade teacher, not a federal judge. Now, do your homework.”

“So,” said Kathy, “Nonny?”

“It’s his nickname.”

-

“I cannot believe you’ve never seen _Captain America: The Winter Soldier_ before,” said Rupert. “If it were still playing, I’d insist we go see it right now.”

“Except you have a test to study for, and I have an essay to write,” Meg said.

Rupert sighed. “All right, fine. We can watch Cap 2 another time.”

“We should make it a marathon,” Kathy suggested. “I own all of the current universe’s films on blu-ray. Except for _The Incredible Hulk_.”

“Sounds awesome. Anyway, we really should be heading home, Rupert can’t fail another test this quarter. It was nice to meet you, Lissy. See you later,” she added, and kissed Kathy on the cheek.

Lissy waved goodbye. They really were a cute couple; they were walking with their joined hands in Rupert’s jacket pocket, and Meg tipped her head back to laugh at something he said.

Kathy turned to her. “Want to grab dinner? Something you don’t have to cook for once?”

“Uh, sure, what do you want?”

“Michael only cooks lean meats, so… how do you feel about Red Robin?”

“Do they have burgers with bacon on them?”

“I believe they have a selection of burgers with bacon on them.”

“I am so, _so_ in.”

-

“Okay, so, honestly,” Lissy said, “six kids?”

Kathy huffed a laugh. “Seven if you count me. I’ve been living with him since I was fifteen.”

“And your parents are okay with that?”

“I didn’t give them much of a choice,” she said, and then fell quiet.

“I heard about Bran and Talts,” said Lissy. “That’s—that’s got to be rough. I lost both of my parents too.”

“They were just little when it happened. Want to see a picture of all of us?” she added, her face brightening.

Lissy grinned. “Do you keep a picture of your niece and nephews in your wallet?”

“I do, actually,” she said, and pulled out a polka dot clutch. “Here.”

It looked like a professional picture, with all of the children lined up by height. Kathy pointed out Bran and Talts – a sandy haired set of twins on the far left – and then there was Alessa, with her hair in box braids, and a scrawny boy with skin several shades lighter than Alessa’s – Jig, according to Kathy, and Lissy realized she’d seen him in the parking lot before, probably waiting for Kathy – and Kathy herself in a floral sundress, and then Timasmus, his dark hair not shielding his glass eye the way he did when Lissy saw him in the halls, and finally a tall, heavyset boy with a round face that Lissy recognized as Jeremiah.

“Jig and Jer both go to Pendarian Middle,” explained Kathy, which explained why Lissy had seen Jeremiah in the parking lot so often – the middle school was backed up to the high school. “Obviously, Michael would prefer if they went to Fallon, since he can keep a closer eye on them there, but Rudy is a gym teacher at Pendarian, so it works out.”

“Rudy?”

“My cousin-in-law. Soon to be ex-cousin-in-law. It’s complicated.”

“Sounds like it.”

“You know,” said Kathy, pausing to take a sip of her strawberry milkshake, “you’re not the only one who can snoop.”

“Oh? What have you got on me, Kathryn Sevenson?”

“Your father donated nearly thirty thousand dollars in books to State University at Fallon upon his death from antibacterial resistant double pneumonia, both lungs. Your mother died of cancer a few years later, and your eldest sister Anna got custody of you and your siblings. She was declared an adult and married a criminal judge, Horatius Maxwell, who is now imprisoned for embezzlement, bribery, fraud, and corruption. And your brother Fisk was in prison, two years, for fraud. He’s out on good behavior, not on parole, and was labelled a model prisoner.”

“Your snooping sounds slightly more illegal than mine,” Lissy said, but she felt a rush of relief that _someone_ knew everything about her and still invited her out to things.

“I’ve got a brother in the courts. Don’t worry, I didn’t tell Michael about any of it. Your brother gets a free pass on me scaring him, unless he goes around school asking questions about my family,” said Kathy. She was smiling, though.

“Sometime,” said Lissy, who was trying to determine who’d told Kathy she was asking an awful lot of questions about the Sevensons. “You and I need to compare networks and see where the overlap is.”

“If there’s one rule to keeping a carefully balanced network of informants, Elissa Fisk, it’s that you don’t reveal their identities.”


End file.
